The Darkness In All Of Us
by Matra The Eternal
Summary: An Elvaan samurai struggles to uncover a past he cannot recall and discover just who he really is. However, the secrets he will uncover in his search will make him wish he had left the past buried as it was. Rated M for language and violence to come.


IMPORTANT!-For those of you who have already read this chapter, please note that I have recently revised and updated it in my current attempt to finish the story this time around. Even if you have already read it, I encourage you to reread it again as some things have been slightly altered and mistakes(like Alshiana's puppet's description…oops), have since been corrected.

This is only my second attempt at writing a fanfic ever so hopefully my writing does ok. Let me know what you think and please be honest as even criticism can only help me to develop my writing better. I started this story around 2-3 years ago and never got past the first chapter but hopefully now I can focus on it again to finish it. I still know what I want to do with it even after so long. This will be the first story in a series I'm hoping to do, one story for every expansion's mission line: pre-Zilart nation missions, Rise of the Zilart missions, Chains of Promathia missions, Treasures of Aht Urhgan missions, and finally Wings of the Goddess missions. I do NOT intend to simply follow the FFXI plots verbatim. These stories will be tied in with set characters I have come up with along with plot elements not present in FFXI. Bare with me as some of it will be me taking some liberty with the FFXI plot, but still trying to make sense of it when I do. So without further delay, read, review, and please, enjoy!

The Rising Tide

The flames…They were everywhere. All around laid the dead or dying as the flames spread ceaselessly, ravaging all in their path. But for these people, it was hardly the flames that consumed them. In the midst of all the carnage and chaos, the moans and cries of the dying, and the ever eternal blaze stood the one responsible for it all. A single, black silhouette was illuminated by the fire, its back turned, slowly removing its blade from the fresh corpse of its latest victim. Blood stained this fearsome tool of death, but it was not merely from just this one poor soul. Countless hundreds had fallen to it, and it could very well be said that the blade itself had been stained with a slight crimson hue. The blood currently upon the blade was quickly cleansed with one precise downward swing from its wielder. Even in the mayhem, one could easily make out the malicious grin upon its face, even if it seemed impossible to make out the features of that face itself. It was clear that whatever this monster was, it was enjoying the carnage that it wrought, and that this was not the end of it. More would soon follow. The figure turned, slowly, confidently, its eyes glowing a piercing black, somehow visible despite the equally black silhouette. The grin was still there, and it only grew more as it stood there, staring. Slowly, it walked forward, closer and closer, the blade held at the ready beside it…

Matra Tranquyl awoke suddenly from a sleep that had been anything but peaceful, a cold sweat upon him. Beads of perspiration slowly fell from his brow. The silver-white locks of his hair clung to his cheeks as he sat there, upright, panting heavily. His eyes slowly closed as he gathered himself. _"The same dream…"_ he thought as he put everything together. No, "dream" was hardly the correct term. "Nightmare" was far more appropriate he decided. That was the only way to describe the horror he had to experience countless times whilst within the grasp of sleep. After a few moments had passed, Matra slowly brought his legs to hang off of the side of the bed, before lowering himself onto the floor. He stood up and made his way over to the side wall where a single mirror hung upon it, showing no signs of being at all perturbed by the grim scene he had just witnessed for the…how many time was it now? However, despite appearances, that was all he could think of at that moment. The images kept playing back over and over in his head as he brought his long arms up slowly, placing them upon the wall on either side of the mirror. His head hung low, staring at the ground in contemplation.

"_What does it all mean?"_

The question stayed unanswered in his mind as he lifted his head, staring into the mirror with those emerald green eyes that seemed almost to glow…eyes that were eerily not those of an Elvaan…Eyes, he had been told, that seemed almost like those of a wyrm…

"Why…" he uttered, thoughts coming to words as his right hand slowly clenched into a fist upon the wall. "…why does this keep happening? What does it all mean?!"

Anger rising in his voice with these last words, he drew back his right arm slightly and promptly placed it where it had been before upon the wall, although doing so with a considerable amount of force as he sought to keep his emotions in check. After a few moments, upon receiving no answer, though he truly did not expect one, Matra sighed deeply, and finally resigned himself once more to the darkness that was the night.

Thankfully, the rest of the night passed rather uneventfully. Matra found himself awakening late in the morning, some time before noon. His emerald pools opened and stared up at his rather uninteresting ceiling, the dream still fresh in his mind, even if the sleep had been relaxing. Again, however he remembered that it was useless to dwell upon it. He lifted himself out of his bed and set about the usual daily tasks one performs upon waking.

After having completed these said tasks, Matra found himself walking along the hard stone streets of San d'Oria from the residential district. The pitch black Far Eastern armor with gold embroidery that he wore was a stark contrast to his long silver locks, though a fitting one at the same time. Traditional by the standards in the East, it was by no means an unremarkable suit of armor. As already noted the primary color was jet-black with gold placed in key locations to accentuate and contrast the black. There was hardly another color present in the armor. The body armor was domaru of considerable size and weight though primarily ornamental than functional, as most Far Eastern armors are. However this domaru, as did the rest of the armor, offered added protection compared to others with reinforcements added to specific points to maximize durability without hampering the samurai's movements too much. The gloves were equally durable kote, more solid for the hands than the domaru for the body as they were entirely closed. The pants were loose-fitting haidate, again for mobility, but some plating had been added beneath to reinforce the protection granted. On his Matra's feet were a pair of sune-ate that shin-guards on the front only; there was only the covering of the sune-ate themselves in back, again for mobility's sake. At his side he carried a long great katana, rather simple in its appearance. It bore no particularly distinguishing markings, just a simple, sharp blade with the handle wrapped in black though none of this made the blade any less lethal. The weapon itself rested in an equally black sheath, once again devoid of anything worthy of note. This possession never left his side, accompanying him everywhere he went.

After a few minutes of walking, the silver-haired Elvaan decided that he needed to do something to set his mind at ease, and so Matra felt that it was best to visit the Lion Springs Tavern where he usually went to relax. This could not have been more convenient since the tavern itself was close to the residential district in the southern part of San d'Oria, and Matra had happened to be standing right beside the tavern when he came to his decision. Stepping inside, he took a seat at the bar by himself and ordered his usual red wine from the barkeep. He had done this so many times that he barely even remembered what the wine was anymore, but it was good enough, and that was all that Matra cared about right now. After receiving his drink, he took a small sip to test the wine, a habit he had developed even though the same wine at the same tavern hardly ever varied. As he slowly consumed his drink, the samurai's thoughts turned to the events of the day. He soon realized that there wasn't much to do on his agenda. That was a good thing, he decided, since a good day of relaxation was what he really needed right now.

Life hardly ever works out that simply however.

After sitting there for a while, lost in his own thoughts, Matra heard a sound behind him. The silver-haired Elvaan's pointed ears instantly recognized it as the light footsteps of someone coming up behind him and stopping. More than likely they were facing directly towards him, he thought. Sure enough, his suspicions were quickly proven true as a small, soft, feminine voice spoke out, "I thought I'd find you herrre…"

Though he did not need to turn around to identify who this person was, Matra did so in his chair anyway to greet her, a friendly smile upon his face, the first cheerful look that he had had all day. "'Allo, Alshiana," he said in a tone that suggested the two were well acquainted.

Standing before him was, by comparison to himself, a small, young Mithra woman. To say she short however is, once again, merely a comparison to the Elvaan. By Mithra standards she was rather tall, having been noted to stand above even a few Humes. Her hair, the first thing most anyone would take notice of upon seeing her, was long, sun-tinted, and fell about her face to her shoulders in straight lengths. Just below her eyes on her cheeks and near the top of the bridge of her nose were unique facial markings, even among her race, that matched her hair color exactly. Her eyes were a simple blue, neither sky nor deep, but within them laid such warmth, one could become lost in them. The top she wore was mostly a thin black cloth, though heavily decorated with pieces of lightweight gold and small gems for decoration. The sleeves were a startling orange that practically matched her hair. The pants were somewhat baggy, allowing her easy movement, and made of the same black cloth as the top, again with decorations of gold and gems. Around her waist was a purple sash that wrapped all the way around. Her gloves and boots matched her top and pants perfectly, the gloves going just past her wrist and the boots rising just past her knees, though she wore a single gold anklet around only her left ankle. A large black and white collar sat about her neck, just open enough to expose her bare collarbone. At her sides was a pair of sainti, the preferred weapon of her profession, the puppetmaster, that she had become well acquainted with in her travels. They were simple weapons, made of a durable metal and ring-like in shape with a blade on one end. In her crossed arms was a small puppet with thin black arms and legs wearing a helmet that covered its entire head and bright white body armor. One of its hands was a shield-like device while the other seemed to be some type of two-parted claw. She held this puppet in her arms like a small child might their favorite stuffed animal, staring at the samurai with a warm smile upon her face. That smile alone could have brightened the day of even the most depressed or cold-hearted of individuals.

"Hello, Matra," she replied in a familiar tone similar to his. "How have you been?"

The Elvaan in question merely shrugged, taking another sip of his wine quickly before saying, "I can't complain. More or less the same as it always has been."

Matra noticed the puppetmaster's ears flatten against her head as he said this, her cheerful expression dimming slightly. "Arrre you still having…those nightmares?" she questioned, concern evident in her voice.

He merely sighed, giving a nod that barely registered. "Aye, that I am, but let's not talk about such things. I came here to relax, not worry about that which I cannot explain." He took another quick drink of his glass and spoke once more saying, "Come on. No point in standing there all day when there's a perfectly good seat beside me."

Alshiana nodded, sitting upon the stool next to Matra's that he had gestured to, the puppet still held affectionately in her small, slim arms. Upon seeing her at the bar, the barkeep came over to take her order, but not being one for any sort of alcoholic drink, she politely, and shyly, declined.

After a few moments of silence passed between the two, the silver-haired man decided to finally speak up. "It's not like you to be this quiet around me. What's on your mind?"

Hearing his words, the young woman's furred ears perked up, looking a bit surprised at the sudden break in the silence as she slowly turned her head to face him. "Unforrrtunately…th-this isn't simply a social visit…"

Matra raised a silver eyebrow at her questioningly. "Oh? Then what do you need, Anna?" he inquired earnestly.

Alshiana smiled slightly as he called her by the nickname only those close to her were given permission to use. Those she didn't know preferred to mainly just refer to her as Alshi instead. The smile quickly turned serious however as she remembered why it was that she was here. Her voice was a bit quieter as she said, "Well…Windurst sent me herrre on a mission…"

"A mission?" Matra asked.

Alshiana simply nodded. "Yes…They sent me herrre as a representative of the nation," she explained. She paused briefly, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Windurst had been told that the orrrcs had been acting strange recently, and this caused San d'Oria some concern. To keep the ties between ourrr nations peaceful, I was sent to investigate…" She paused once more, bowing her head slightly and pulling the puppet in her arms tighter. "But…I'm…still rrrelatively n-new to this…I-I'm not so surrre I can do this alone…"

The samurai closed his eyes briefly, letting all of this sink in and forming his own thoughts. Eventually the emerald pools opened once more and he regarded the Mithra carefully. "So you'd like for me to come along with you," he concluded.

Alshiana's head bowed even more, her long hair falling about her delicate face, obscuring it from view. "Y-yes…" she stated weakly. "That's what I was hoping…"

Her head quickly pulled up in surprise as she felt a reassuring hand upon her shoulder, and her eyes met his, as well as a comforting smile. "Anna, you know I'd never let you do something like this alone. Of course I'll help you."

The shy woman's ears perked up once more as she stared back at him, a hopeful look in her gentle eyes. "R-rrreally?"

Matra drained the remaining contents of his glass and set it upon the bar. "Aye. After all, what kind of friend would I be if I didn't help you out in a time of such need? But you have to do something for me first."

Alshiana tilted her head to the side questioningly. "Something forrr you, Matra?"

He simply nodded. "Aye. Have a little more faith in yourself, alright? You've accomplished a lot more than you realize."

Looking a bit surprised, the puppetmaster turned her head away shyly as a slight crimson blush touched her cheeks. Matra merely chuckled, having always been able to have that affect on her. No one could make Alshiana feel more comfortable than himself. Equally so, no one could bring out the kinder, friendlier side of Matra that was often kept hidden like this Mithra woman. The two had always had great respect for one another, and it was for that reason that they had been friends as long as they had. Neither one of them wanted that to ever change.

"Thank you…" she responded quietly, looking fully back to him.

The samurai merely shook his head, smiling back at her. "No need to thank me, Anna. I'm merely stating the facts. We'll take care of things in Ghelsba and you can be back to Windurst with a successful report in no time."

The orcs of Ghelsba had never been too much of a problem for Matra, even during his early days as an adventurer. He assumed that, no matter what was happening there, the two of them would be more than capable of handling things. He had become quite the noteworthy samurai during his travels, and she, while paling in comparison to his own skill, was certainly no one to be taken lightly, especially with her automaton at her side.

However, the Elvaan could not have been any more wrong. What would await the two in that den of the beastmen would set events into motion that had been dormant for a long while, and the repercussions of those events would be felt throughout all of Vana'diel…

-Final Fantasy XI and all things pertaining to it are property of Square Enix. The personalities of Matra and Alshiana however both belong to me.


End file.
